Injustice: Mercenaries among us - Part 1
by ReptilesTheme
Summary: Charley and Vinnie have finally taken the big step and settled into married life. How will the discovery of a long lost girlfriend affect the team dynamic and the bonding of Charley and Vinnie? Vinnie's actions sets of a series of cataclysmic events no-one could have foretold. First of a three part series.
1. Chapter 1 - Discovery

CHAPTER ONE - DISCOVERY

I don't own any of the biker mice, Charley or any other cannon characters. I also don't own any "own characters", since they usually don't work out any way. Con-crit, plot ideas etc. will always be welcomed...flames will not be tolerated.

A/Note: I've rewritten this chapter and changed the title after my muse hit me hard one night. So this story will now be done in three parts, not two as originally planned. The first part I could have done as a prologue, but it serves as a support story for the following parts, which will also be more adventurous and have more action than this one. While I don't enjoy writing romance/tragedy as such, it's necessary for the story to make sense later. All three fics takes place during the Plutarkian/Mars war with some minor change in details. I couldn't find a lot of information on Harley and when/where she was kidnapped, so I apologise in advance if I get some details wrong.

"The scanner didn't show what we were looking for, but it definitely picked up some kind of carbon-based life form. You see how it's coloured red? That means the heat sensor is picking up some form of radiance. Metal objects would reflect as blue, Artificial Intelligence would be green and rocks and things would not show at all."

Charley leaned backed in her chair, crossing her feet at the ankles before continuing.

"I haven't told the guys yet; I thought I'd have a chat with you first to see what you think."

Millions of miles away, on the distant red planet, Mars; Stoker stared pensively at the little blinking light on the vid-com screen.

"I'm thinking rogue Sand Raider or Plutarkian Scout truck. Maybe even an over-sized sand squid. It doesn't seem to be moving though".

Charley shook her head.

"No, it's definitely not a sand squid, and the blip is too far off the enemy base perimeters you pointed out to be either Plutarkian or Sand Raider. Which leaves us with another option… call me crazy, but I have good reason to believe the image might be someone you all know...and desperately searched for years ago. I don't know why, since I have no proof to back up my suspicion. Call it….a girl-hunch." She tapped her fingers together and gazed at the vid-com screen.

Stoker scratched behind his ears, trying to buy time before putting his thoughts out there.

"Harley? No way, Beautiful, not only did those three rookies leave no stone unturned searching for her, but my intel had never let on that there is any trace of life on that side of Mars. Besides, I'm not entirely sure she is still on Mars at all."

Charley shrugged.

"Either way, it's the perfect place to hide a hostage for long periods of time. It's quiet, secluded...you haven't patrolled that region for years. "

Stoker nodded his head in agreement.

"Game plan?" Charley asked.

"Checking it out. Rounding up a team and have a look-see." Stoker sighed. "If this turns out to be Harley - not that I think it is - how will this affect the bro's? And you? I don't want to see you, or any of the team, hurt." Stoker was uncharacteristically serious.

Charley shrugged and fidgeted.

"Part of me is hoping that this isn't her. That it's some lonely Martian making his way out on his own, not wanting to mix with the crowd. Yet the minute I saw that blip on the screen, something just clicked." Charley gave a half-smile. "And in a twisted way I hope it's her. Maybe to find...closure? End off this one unfinished chapter of his life? To not feel like a stand-in for the rest of MY life?" She slowly twirled the ruby-red stud piercing her right earlobe.

Charlene Davidson married Vincent in a small Martian bonding ceremony after one year of rollercoaster dating. Three years of crazy flirting, barely disguised innuendos and several awkward moments preceded that joyous moment. They had crashed-landed on earth four years prior and, after rescuing her from Limburger's goons that were trying to bully her into selling her garage to their boss, became her closest friends. They kept her garage and planet safe and she kept their bikes in tip-top shape...whilst also keeping the bro's in check. Especially the wild, egotistical, yet charming-in-his-own-way youngest member of the trio. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she would ever meet a Martian, never mind falling in love with one. Her wildest dreams also did not include that the Martian would be a humanoid mouse...a BIKER mouse no less - with round, velvety ears; a strong, lightning fast tail and a preference for root beer, hotdogs and stomach churning, adrenaline pumping stunts on his bike. Not to mention biker clothes, antennae and a seriously buff body. Now she was married to the Martian, and life on earth had only gotten crazier since the day they met. The mice had officially been assigned to keep the earth safe from Limburger, a fishlike alien from the planet Plutark, who on a regular basis cooked up ill-devised plans to steal Earth's resources to transport back to Plutark. Not only have the Biker Mice succeeded in thwarting each of his plans, but they also made a habit of bringing his office tower down on a regular basis, forcing the foul-smelling fish to rebuild….only to have the Mice blow it up again.

Stoker nodded his head at her last statement.

"Either way, let's get a team together and check it out. I don't want this biting us in the ass weeks from now at recon update. My assumption is that that little blip is not new in that area, so as a precaution I'm not gonna rush it. I'll assemble a team tomorrow for a briefing after roll-call, and we will formulate a plan of action from there. No details to the bro's yet, I don't want hysterics or this reaching Carbine's ears before we have more information. I'll be in touch. Stoker out"

"Charley out"

Charley stood up and stretched. She headed for the door, pausing only to switch off the vid com screen, throwing a last glance at the little red blinking light. She entered the main part of her garage and manually closed the roller-door that lead to the outside pavement. The bro's were out on patrol, so she had at least an hour or two to herself. Pausing in the hallway to check for messages on the machine and finding nothing of interest, she headed through the main bedroom to the en-suite bathroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothes as she went along.

She opened the hot water faucet, and wrapped a towel around her naked body. Plugging in the Martian soap dispenser she got from Carbine as a wedding gift and setting the aromatic-meter to apple-mint, she headed over to the mirror to remove the myriads of pins that kept her hair in the complex Martian style her husband seemed to favour. Being a mechanic she never really paid attention to her appearance. Her job required her to look and be practical. The constant fiddling with greasy engines meant no long, painted nails and the sweaty hours spent in the hot garage automatically wiped any inclination to wear make-up of any kind. Her hair was the only feature she could 'play' with, so to speak. With her last visit to Earth with Stoker and Rimfire, Primer had spent several hours teaching her to do Martian hairstyles. The styles have proven to be practical, keeping her hair out of her face, and Vincent loved it, so it really was a win-win situation, even though it was still too much faffing than what she would have liked.

Wiping some steam off the mirror, she started removing the pins from her hair, relishing in the feel of her scalp relaxing from the sudden release of tension. Her hair was luxurious; a vibrant auburn that fell in curls and wisps to her waist. Her eyes were bright green, setting off her red hair against her pale, creamy skin, with pink lips and a freckly nose. Her waist was slim, her breasts firm, and at 22 she had youth on her side. She skimmed her hands lightly over her body, feeling her skin goose bump and her nipples hardening in the breeze blowing from the open window that overlooked the cityscape, the soft light announcing the setting of the Sun. She wasn't gorgeous in the true sense of the word, but not ogre-ugly either. She was just...Charley. Vinnie's Charley. Charley that could turn her adrenaline junkie husband into mush at a single touch. Charley that could fix anything mechanical or at least get it working temporarily. The Charley that, in time, replaced the face of the lost female mouse that haunted Vincent's dreams, until he rarely spoke of her and no longer called out her name in the dreams that haunted him since her kidnapping by that treacherous rat, Mace.

Or was she?

The sound of a speed bike pulling up, a raised voice and an infectious bellow of laughter jerked her out of her pensive state.

"Awwooooooooooooo! Sweetheeeeaaarrrtttt! I'm hoooooommmmmmeeeee".

She flicked her hair back, turned away from the mirror and stepped into shower and waited, anticipating the opening of the shower door and warm hands sliding around her waist, pulling her wet body close to him.

Her husband was home.

Next update: 10 Jan 2014


	2. Chapter 2 - The Briefing

I managed to finish this chapter a little sooner and figured I might as well post it.

Disclaimer stays the same for the rest of the story.

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CHAPTER TWO – THE BRIEFING

Stoker watched as the 5 chosen Freedom Fighters for the recovery team filed in, curiously eyeing the projector screen with the tiny blinking red light. All young, well trained mice, each with their fair share of warfare experience and the horror it entailed. They were hand-picked for this mission, in case it turns out to be the sensitive operation Charley thought it would be.

He had a special eye trained on Rimfire, one of the rising stars of the Martian Liberation Army. Rimfire was a light tannish brown, with a mop of spunky dark hair with a single orange streak through it. At 19 he was still young to be an army brat, but his size and fighting skills suggested he would eventually size up equally to his burly uncle and member of the famous biker mice, Modo. He was also under Carbine's command, hence the fact that his presence at the briefing was to be kept very, very quiet.

Since they were all stationed under different sections of the army and not always in regular contact, the young mice couldn't help but be excited to see each other – meaning the usual scuffling greetings and fist-in-your-face hello's were flying across the room. He gave them a few short minutes to get the formalities out of the way.

"Simmer down, Rookies – I wanna get started"

The fracas ended and 5 pairs of eyes focused on him, sensing that this briefing was different from the usual "sniff out the sand raiders and blow up the base" briefings they got as part of their seek-and-destroy training.

"Preliminary reports revealed movement near the Erythraeum Chaos plains, and it seems to be carbon-based." Stoker pointed at the blinking light highlighted on the screened map. "Now, before we get too excited and go in guns blazing, we need to decide whether this is worth our time and the trouble you would be all in for sneaking off to do a rogue mission." He looked Rimfire straight in the eye. "This isn't exactly an approved mission."

"What details do you have General?" Rimfire asked without taking his eyes of the screen.

"So far? Nothing." Stoker shrugged. "This is all based on a hunch from Ch…..an informant. My thinking is we go in at night, take the lot by surprise, bring them back to base and do some questioning.

"So there is more than one? And more than one of what exactly?" Centreline leaned forward, curious to hear his mentor's answer. The rest of the team nodded.

"We don't know. Could be a Plutarkian, could be a sand raider. Hell, it could be a giant sand squid that we can shoot up for the dinner table. It could be a Martian."

"So…..what you're saying is we will be going in blind?" Rimfire asked suspiciously.

"Yip"

"With minimal weapons if this mission is to be top secret?"

"Yip"

"And we have NO IDEA WHATSOEVER of what we are letting ourselves in for?"

"Yip"

"Chances of shooting something or getting shot at?"

Stoker pondered on this.

"Fair, I'd say. If whatever is out there don't shoot at you, Carbine will when she finds out you are off-base with me. Are you in?"

The five younger mice looked at each other and then at their rogue mentor.

"WE'RE IN‼" They cried in unison.

"I thought so. We will reconvene at 22:30 tonight by the hangar right outside the stalker ship hold. Speak of this to no one, we can't afford an audience. Dismissed."

Rimfire held back while the rest made their way to their respective stations.

"Permission to speak freely, Sir".

Stoker chuckled.

Almost funny, Rookie, what do you have to say?"

Rimfire looked him in the eye. "I didn't miss your slip of the tongue earlier. You almost said "Charley" earlier. Have you spoken to my uncle and his bro's about the fact that you think its Harley out there?"

Stoker wasn't surprised at the kid's sharp sense for picking up underlying currents.

"Now why would you assume I think it's Harley?" Stoker used his bionic tail to flip his chair around to the screen, avoiding having to look at Rimfire.

"First of all: This mission is top secret AND requires several of us to stick our necks out based on a 'hunch'. You wouldn't risk Carbine's ire unless you think it really was worth it. Second: clearly my uncle and his bro's know nothing of this, which means you agree with Charlie but want confirmation of some kind before involving them. Thirdly: You have always trusted Charley-girl's hunches…..hunches that proved to be right more often than not." Rimfire sat back and crossed his arms. "You need to give me more credit coach; I ain't as slow on the uptake as my uncle seems to be."

Stoker laughed. "Yeah well, you're both your granmama's baby and what he lacks in grey cells, he more than makes up for in charm and muscle. I suspect he is one of the reasons why Charley-girl hasn't kicked the lot of them out yet – he seems to charm them out of the constant trouble they find themselves in at the garage. Vincent often declares Charley to be more volatile than a Plutarkian Stealth attack." Stoker sobered up. "But yeah, you're right on all accounts. I don't want to raise a false alarm, gods knows we've had more than enough of those. Especially not with those two being married now. Every time a supposed "sighting" of Harley is proven to be fake, I have to watch that kid deal with her disappearance all over again. And this time it involves Charley as well, so I want us to be real sure of facts."

"But you already said Charley knows." Rimfire frowned.

"She spotted the blip in the first place; she knows what it could mean. That girl is no damsel in distress, she can handle much more than the bro's give her credit for. She only comes across all helpless because they hardly give her a chance to strut her stuff."

Rimfire burst out laughing. "Maybe it has to do with that masked motorcyclist debacle when she constantly had to save THEM from total annihilation‼ I bet that still smarts‼"

Stoker snickered. "Getting your ass handed to you by a lady dressed in hot pink? And then finding out that lady is the one person you never expected could do more than tighten a nut and cook hot dogs? BUUUUURRRNNNNNNNN‼"

They were full out bellowing with laughter now.

"Pretty sure that shut Vincent up about his "baddest mammajamma in the universe" theory." Stoker made the appropriate quotation marks with his fingers at that statement, while pulling a true Vinnie-at-his-best face.

Stoker and Rimfire looked at each other.

"NAH‼" They cried together and continued slapping each other on the back, all the while still crowing and snickering.


	3. Chapter 3 - Morning Glory

Chapter 3 – Morning glory

A/n: To everyone that has reviewed so far, thanks for the info, advice and positive notes. It is much appreciated‼ Word of warning though: this chapter starts of with some LEMON (scenes of a sexual nature), so if this is not your thing, start reading a few lines down rather. For some reason I find adding a bit of lemon to a story helps getting the creative juices (no pun intended) going.

Disclaimer stays the same.

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Charley woke to the soft stroke of a palm on the inside of her thigh and soft lips brushing kisses down her throat and into the crook of her neck. Vinnie was snuggled up behind her, one hand playing with a lock of her hair, the other between her legs, touching her in ways she never seem to get enough of. She pushed her backside towards him, feeling his arousal pressing against her, and started to rock her hips slowly against his ever growing bulge. He groaned and bit her ear softly while sliding his free hand to her breasts, kneading each one until she moaned and guided his hand down to the elastic of her panties, making her intentions clear. He pushed his hand inside her underwear, rubbing that sensitive spot slowly to match the rhythm of her hips. Charley sped up the rocking motion, twisting her hips to ensure that each circular move of his finger produced the maximum amount of sensation required to push her over the edge. He alternated between rubbing her clit and letting a finger slide over her moist slit, then dipping a finger into her entrance before pulling out and rubbing her clit again. When he slipped two fingers in, she came hard and arched her back, causing her backside to rub along the length of his erection, letting out a small "ah‼" and revelling in the waves of pleasure crashing over her. He pushed deeper and felt the power of his wife's orgasm in the strength with which her walls clamped around his fingers. Before she could catch her breath, Vinnie flipped her onto her back and pulled her panties down. He used his knee to spread her legs; pushed into her in one swift move and started a frantic thrusting motion that she knew from experience would make him come just as fast as she just had. His tail pulled her leg up to let her foot rest on the small of his back, while his strong arms braced the bulk of his muscular weight on top of her, his head buried in the crook of her neck. She brought her other foot up and pushed him even deeper inside by locking her ankles, increased the rocking pace, and it was over in minutes. Charley came again as she felt him explode inside her. They clutched at each other, sweat mingling with the strong musky scent their lovemaking produced. He didn't withdraw immediately, and rather waited for his cock to soften and slip out naturally before shifting over to lie next to her.

"Sleep well?" He smirked, kissing her shoulder again.

"Hmmmm, and woke up even better..." She nodded and stretched, ducking when he leaned in for a kiss.

"I have morning breath‼" she wailed, trying to bat him off.

In true Vinnie-style, he took this as a challenge and made a grab for her hands, pinning them above her head and bending down for a kiss, when he felt a foot suddenly brace against his hipbone, catapulting him backwards off the bed and landing with a "oooommmmphhh‼" on the floor.

His wife's laughing face appeared above him.

"You can thank Throttle for that sneaky little move‼" she snickered.

"What? You tried to kiss him and he kicked you away? I didn't pick him for the S & M type" he teased.

She swung a pillow at him. "No he showed me how to defend myself if I'm pinned down‼"

He grabbed the pillow and pulled her down. "How about you let the hottest bod this side of the galaxy pin you down in the shower?" he smirked, waggling his eyebrows and winking suggestively.

She snorted, got up and headed to the bathroom before turning back with a suggestive look.

"So, are you coming or what?"

Charley flipped the last pancake and slid it onto the stack on the table and whistled through her fingers. The bro's were in the garage polishing their bikes, waiting for breakfast and making bets on how soon Limburger's latest tower will be up and running so they could get some much craved action.

"Breakfast is done‼" she shouted for good measure.

Throttle sauntered in, sniffing the air and settled into an empty chair at the table. He was the leader of the trio, 6'7 in height, 265 pounds of toned muscle and as smart and sensible as he was quiet and attractive. Tan coloured, with a muscular build and longer fur than his two bro's, he commanded a sense of trust and respect on anyone that took the time to get to know him. He recently let his mohawk grow out into a more looser, flowy hairstyle, sometimes pulling the longer back hair into a messy pony tail and leaving the bangs to fall over his eyes. His longer fur also hid the scars he carried from his days as a freedom fighter in the Plutarkian/Marsian war. Blinded in a torture session by the evil Dr. Karbunkle during the Plutarkian war, he was fitted with prosthetic eyes that did not work the way they should, and he was forced to wear a pair of field specs, black framed with green lenses, to enable him to get around with his daily life. If anything else, it only added to enhance his overall look. Red bandannas were tied around his wrists and neck and he preferred the minimum amount of jewellery, opting for only a stud and a spiked earring on his left ear. Biker boots, blue jeans and a gun belt slung low on his hips completed the look, along with his nuke-knucks glove on his right hand. His voice was low and husky, and he was not a mouse of many words.

Charley noticed he didn't have his usual black sleeveless leather vest on and had opted for a white t-shirt rather. She tried not to notice how tight it stretched across his chest.

"Where are the others and where is your vest?" she questioned, putting down maple syrup and butter before sitting down.

He blew a bang out of his eye. "Destructo-boy back there tried to do a back flip off his bike and ended up back flipping a tray full of tools into a bucket of greasy muck, which in turn became air-born. Vincent's cleaning up and Modo went to change his pants, he took the worst of it." He threw a dirty look at Vinnie, who had just taken his seat.

"Dude, that back flip was EPIC! Did you see how that….." Vinnie caught his wife's narrow-eyed stare. "It's all clean, babe, no sweat!" he backtracked.

"If I so much as see a SPECK of dirt on my clean tools, you will be sleeping at the scoreboard for the rest of the week! Work INSIDE the garage, failed stunt moves OUTSIDE the garage!" she said, pretending not to notice the expression of mock hurt on his face.

"Failed!? SWEETHEART! My moves never fail! They just…..just…..OW‼" he crowed as a large metal hand connected with the back of his head.

"Serves ya right for makin' such a mess in your wife's garage and ruinin' my last pair of clean jeans." Modo growled as he took the last open space at the table.

Being the eldest, he was also the biggest of the three….but also had the softest heart and kindest personality, completely belied by his size and deep booming voice. He had short, dark grey fur and easily stood 6'9 in his heavy duty biker boots, and had two small earrings piercing his left ear. Also a victim to the horrendous war, he was covered in scars and had a mechanical right arm with a built in laser canon. An eye patch where his left eye used to be added to his over-all scary and intimidating look. His remaining right eye glowed red when he was aggravated, something that didn't happen often unless he (or any Martian Mouse for that matter) was referred to as a "rat", or had to deal with Limburger's goons, child abusers and to some extent, Vinnie's wild and often destructive behaviour. Tipping the scale close to 300 pounds of solid muscle, he was a force to be reckoned with. Usually dressed in the same style blue jeans as Throttle, he was now wearing black sweat pants that had clearly seen better days and judging by how high it was riding up past his ankles, it probably belonged to Vinnie. She hoped he put the soiled jeans in the designated wash basked for her greasy work clothes.

"This looks good Charley-mam." he nodded at the food in appreciation.

Charley smiled and swatted Vincent's hands away from the plate.

"Use your cutlery, for crying out loud, what are you? a man mouse or a cave mouse?" she regretted the words instantly.

"Well technically babe, I AM a cave m…." he quipped, before she interrupted him.

"One more word, I DARE you‼" she threatened, pointing a fork at him.

Vinnie opted for the safer option of stuffing his mouth with pancake.

The little exchange clearly amused Throttle and Modo, who by now was snickering at Vinnie's talent for stepping on the wrong side of the lady mechanic.

"Careful there, bro" Throttle said dryly. "If Charley doesn't choke you, those ten pancakes in your pie-hole might."

"Stoker would be so proud of you, Charley-mam" Modo chuckled. "Not everyday someone can get this one to hush up."

"Speaking of Stoke, what did you guys talk about last night? He was looking for us?" Throttle pushed his plate back and poured more coffee.

"Last night?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"Yeah I saw on the Vid-com log you had a chat with Stoke? Quite a lengthy one too?"

Luckily he asked the question just as she took the last bite of pancake from her plate, giving her time to think of a quick answer while chewing. She could kick herself for not clearing the log. Throttle often checked it for missed calls from Carbine, and he was bound to see the lengthy chat she had with Stoker.

"He wanted to discuss some specs on the modification I did for your bikes, said they might consider adding it as a standard feature." She quipped. She didn't like how easily the fib slipped past her lips. The bro's trusted her implicitly, and lying was something they did NOT take kindly to. She could only hope that once the truth is out, they would either forget she fibbed or understand her reasons for doing so.

Throttle looked at her thoughtfully but then seemed to accept her answer.

"Wait a minute...when did Throttle have you pinned down?" Vinnie suddenly piped up, eyeing his tan bro suspiciously.

"What?" Throttle looked at Vinnie as if he had suddenly spoken in a different language all together.

For once, Charley was grateful for her husband's legendary inability to concentrate on one topic for longer than a few minutes before moving on. He unknowingly took the heat off her by backtracking to their little horseplay in the bedroom earlier.

"Yeah, Charley kicked me off the bed this morning after I pinned her down, with a move YOU apparently taught her? You had to pin her down to teach her?"

Throttle blinked.

"Yeah bro, that was several years ago, not long after we met. Unlike you, she remembers the moves first time round‼"

Vincent huffed.

"I do remember the moves! I just choose to do them Vinnie-style! You know, add a little mama-jammer magic to the hero repertoire!" he flexed his biceps and winked at his wife.

Charley laughed, slapping at his arm playfully.

"Well then, Mr. Mama-jammer Hero, how about adding some magic to your washing-the-dishes repertoire? If you do a good job, you get hot dogs for lunch!"

Vinnie groaned, knowing his wife had him EXACTLY where she wanted him.

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**A/N:** Yeah I know I haven't added a description of Vinnie yet, it's in the works!


	4. Chapter 4 - The Recovery

Chapter 4 – The Recovery

A/n: I actually wrote this chapter before I wrote Chapter 3 and thought I might as well post it instead of leaving it for me next weekly update. I will be bringing in an O/c or two, but for fleeting moments only (almost like an extra in a movie). I will not be building characters around them, so if you see the name and like it, feel free to use it. Some details might differ slightly from the show, my resources are pretty limited to season 1 and some of season 2 from the 90's. I refuse to acknowledge the 2006 series as a true BMFM series.

**Miceaholic: **Changed the suit colour to pink in the previous chapter :)

**Reviewers:** Your continued support is much appreciated‼ This is my first fanfic, and its inspiring to know that people seem to enjoy it.

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Stoker peeked around the corner of the boulder, gun poised to fire if need be. Not seeing anything threatening, he motioned for Rimfire a few yards back to follow him, and silently crept forward, all the while keeping his eye trained on the flickering light in the short distance ahead of them. They had parked about 4km's away from the campsite, not wanting the sound of roaring bike engines to cut through the deathly silence of the plains. They made the rest of the way on foot, and were now about 500 metres away from their target.

The Erythraeum Chaos plains were well known for its unforgiving habitat, and few Martians ever ventured here unless they had to. Temperatures were extreme, ranging from blazing hot during the day to freezing cold at night. The plains were mostly flat with various sizes of boulders, rocks and a few canyons scattered around a 149km² region of red dust and sand. Since it did not have any water whatsoever, it was unable to sustain any kind of life, and Stoker was very interested in finding out why anyone would choose to make camp here. He raised his night vision binoculars and took another good look at the campsite. The details were utterly confusing, making it hard to envision the type of enemy they might be facing. A very old Plutarkian gunner truck was parked by a make-shift tent of what seemed to be thin leather hides, usually a tell-tale sign of sand raider presence. For a second he thought the truck must have been abandoned previously, but fresh tyre tracks and red sand collected around the rims indicated otherwise. A pair of heavy duty sand raider boots, and a Martian biker jacket was carelessly dumped on the hood of the truck, along with a backpack that rested against a tyre. A fire burned not far from the truck, lighting up a small area of the campsite. The green tint of the binoculars made it impossible to make out any colours of any kind.

He passed the binoculars to Rimfire, who took a long look before passing it back.

"Difficult to say. I'd say sand raider, but the jacket is Martian. Nothing to indicate a female presence." He spoke in a low voice.

Stoker nodded.

"Sand raider tent, Plutarkian truck, Martian biker gear. We might as well go in blind." He raised the binoculars again. Whoever had set up camp had turned on a Lumaglo inside the tent, a Martian lamp utilizing solar power as a charge resource and could burn for around six hours straight at night if fully charged. There was movement inside the tent reflected by the Lumaglo, and what he saw made him draw his breath sharply.

The camper was a mouse….and clearly female.

Rimfire grabbed the binoculars and cussed when he also spotted the clear profile of a female in the light of the Lumaglo.

"Shit‼ You think she's on her own?" Rimfire took another look. "I don't see anyone else. Suddenly the Harley theory doesn't look so impossible anymore."

Stoker could kick himself for not trusting Charley's gut feeling 100%. By now he should know better, that girl sometimes seemed to be psychic.

"We should have brought Primer" he said pensively. "This might need a girl's touch, and she knew Harley better than we did, she would have known how to approach this."

Rimfire shook his head, clearly not happy with the thought of his sister joining them on this type of mission, regardless of the fact that she was a war medic and had seen her fair share of danger and chaos.

"No way would I have allowed that. We can take whoever this is over to her if need be. You want grandmamma to skin both of us alive? She's just a child‼" he frowned.

Stoker decided against pointing out that Primer and Rimfire were twins, Primer in fact being older by three minutes. He motioned for the rest of the team to come over. They had to decide on a strategy, no way was he willing to relax his guard because the camp seemed occupied by a lone female.

He gave them the low-down on what was discussed so far. He looked over at Rimfire, willing to take a step back to give the young mouse a chance to take the lead on this one.

Rimfire pointed his flashlight at a patch of sand before him and drew a quick map of the campsite with his finger.

"The occupant is a lone female, undetermined whether she is armed or not, but let's assume she is." He looked at the team. "Centreline, I want you and Gyro to guard the truck parked outside the tent. Take a wide approach; I don't want her to see you approaching. Syler and Kickstart will take the back of the tent, covering the dark section of the site. I don't want anyone entering or leaving the campsite without us knowing it, no surprises. Set your blasters to stun until we know what we are up against. Stoker, you and I take the tent, see who is hiding in there – be ready to fire if need be."

Stoker was impressed with the rookie's strategic planning.

"Are we shooting first and asking questions later, or knocking politely and request to see the lady of the house?" he smirked, not waiting for an answer before slowly continuing the creeping towards the campsite, the rest of the recovery team right behind him.

A few times they froze mid-approach, the shadow in the tent seeming to want to move outside, but nothing happened. They were dead quiet, the soft red sand muffling their footsteps even in the dead quiet of the plains. About 50m from the tent entrance, Rimfire motioned to Stoker to follow him and for the rest of the team to split up as discussed. They slowed their pace even further, ready to duck for the truck at the slightest movement of the tent opening. The front entrance was not tied, and Stoker merely had to pull away the overlapping section to reveal who was inside. Reaching the entrance, he positioned his gun in front of him and slowly took hold of the loop holding the front part of the tent together. He motioned to Rimfire to cover him, held up his fingers and mouthed "On the count of three….one….two….three‼". On the last count he ripped the entrance open, laser gun pointed and ready to fire, but nothing happened and instead he just stared at something in the tent, letting his gun drop to his side. Rimfire, sensing that there didn't seem to be any danger, pushed past him to look inside the tent.

Straight into the shocked face of Primer.


	5. Chapter 5 - Knock Knock

Chapter 5 – Knock knock...

A/n: Okay this chapter completely ran away with me. What initially started as a tiny little chapter ended up being this huge chapter that I just couldn't stop adding to. And once I stopped adding and realized how big it was, I couldn't find anything to delete. Again, some lemony bits here. English is not my first language so please point out where I make mistakes. If this story seem to disappear from your story feed, it only means I have managed to successfully change it to an "M" rating. Please R & R.

**Spades24: **I have repeatedly tried to change the rating of the story to 'M" since even before the second chapter, but it bounces back to "T". I sent a request to FF, and...still waiting for a reply.

* * *

"Okay, Throttle you do the hot dog run. Modo, you're going to the scoreboard?"

"Yeah Charley-mam, got some things I need to get sorted and do some cleanin'. Won't be long, things ain't half as messy since Vincent left."

Vinnie snorted and rested his elbow on his older bro's shoulder. "You might wanna check his backpack for your clothes' iron, babe. Yesterday was washing day, and if his gray-furred mama is to be believed, today is ironing day...socks, jeans...even his hanky gets a pat down."

Modo kicked his bro's feet from under him, causing Vinnie to crash down, but using his tail to try and brace himself on Modo and ending up pulling both of them down.

"Well, at least I use SOMETHING, unlike you snortin' like a..." Modo shouted, swinging a punch that Vinnie blocked by holding up a throw pillow from the couch.

"Okay, break it up, kidlets." Charley quickly cut Modo off. "I'm sure your nasal hygiene habits are mind blowing but I have no interest in hearing about it." Charley grabbed the pillow and used it to swat Vinnie's outstretched hand away, not falling for the trap of being pulled into his lap. "No Vincent, I am not pulling you up. And don't even think of floor-to-couch maneuver number 457 or whatever to get back up."

Modo had the decency to blush guiltily.

She fumbled in her wallet for some dollar bills and held them out to Throttle.

"S'okay babe, I got this one." He smiled and patted his back pocket. "Still got some bucks left over from payday."

She smiled and put the money back. Things had been a lot easier financially since Stoker somehow managed to get the bro's to be paid in dollars instead of Martian currency. The bro's were relieved to finally be able to pitch in financially and no longer had to rely on Charley for everything they needed.

"Man! I still don't get why Throttle get to do hot dog run every time. Garage duty sucks!" Vinnie whined and pouted at his chore list. It wasn't so much a list as just the word "garage duty" scrawled in Charley's lopsided handwriting on a piece of paper. The bro's had spent many hours teasing her on her terrible script and many more hours trying to figure out notes left around the house and in the garage's appointment book.

"Maybe if you were able to get the dogs without causing a scene, we would consider it." Throttle snorted and tucked his list in the back pocket of his jeans.

"That wasn't my fault! How could I know Limburgers' goons were into hot dogs too? He could have pulled a gun! Off duty or not!" Vinnie threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Okay lemme see." Modo held up three fingers."Number one: He was reachin' for his wallet. Number two: That goon clearly wasn't armed. How do we know? Well, number three explains it: he was wearin' shorts and a vest and SANDALS for cryin' out loud!"

"Coulda' reached for a gun." Vinnie insisted.

"That he would hide where? His butt crack? But no...Fastest-Fingers-First here decided to spray him with the diner's soda machine nozzle." Throttle shot back. "Pepsi flavour!"

"Only 'cause Charley-girl had my blaster!"

"And then you launched Charley-mam's chicken salad at him" Modo remarked.

"Because he swung a punch at me!"

"Maybe getting soaked in sticky soda had something to do with it, wise guy?" Charley turned her back to the two bro's and winked suggestively at Vinnie. "Garage duty isn't all that bad. We can make it a team effort. You always complain about wanting to see me getting down and dirty, so..."

"There is no such thing as time-off for those scumbags; silly-ass sandals or not. They...wait...what?!" he turned back to his wife.

"Aaaaaaaannnnd that's our cue bro!" Modo rolled his eye and the two made for the door, pretending not to see the suggestive moves Vinnie was making behind Charley's back and then getting caught with his hand mid-air as she snapped her head around.

Making idle talk through their helmet communicators as they rode through the streets of Chicago, they decided to take a quick detour past the tower to see how the Limburger's latest building project was coming along. The construction lot was crawling with workers. It always amazed them that Limburger somehow found the funding to pay crews to work in shifts, which meant that construction was a 24/7 project, often resulting in the tower being completed in just a few weeks. He was stinkin' rich (no pun intended) but rebuilding a tower every so often was costly, and they were convinced he somehow connived the cash out of is home planet, Plutark. Satisfied that they at least had another two weeks or so before it was ready for another trashing, they sped off.

"You gotta admit, those two have lasted longer than we thought." Throttle said as they stepped inside their hide out. "I honestly thought she would have killed him within weeks of putting that stud in her ear."

"Charley-mam's good for him. Keeps him in line. That takes a skill, and she got plenty o' that!"

Throttle grabbed a clean leather vest from a hanger on his side of the room and pulled his t-shirt off.

"I'll see you back at the garage bro."

Modo nodded and waited until he could hear the roar of Throttle's bike gunning down the road, before stooping down and taking Charley's iron out of his backpack.

* * *

_Back at the garage..._

"If you stop whining, we will be done sooner, and the sooner we get done, the sooner we can do whatever it is you want to do!" Charley planted her hands on her hips and blew a lock of hair out of her face. Sweat was glistening on her skin, and she felt sticky and hot and not in the mood for Vincent's complaints. Chicago summers were notoriously hot, and she again considered the benefits of having proper air conditioning installed in her work place.

"Sweetheart, I just don't get why you don't pack these tires according to size in the first place. That would save us a lot of effort of having to arrange them!" Vincent lifted another bike tire and placed it on the shelf above him.

"They were sorted perfectly until your little stunt this morning. Throttle saved your hide leaving out the details of trashing the tire shelf and only mentioning the airborne toolbox and bucket! I still can't believe I didn't hear the ruckus."

"Hmm, thank sweet Georgy Brown for that..." Vincent mumbled. "I did apologize and clean up, surely I could get some sign of forgiveness?" he leered at the sweat glistening on the cleavage visible above her tank top.

"You have, and showing penance by stacking the last of the tires might just win you that sign." She smiled.

She could never stay mad at him for long. He was many things: an egomaniac, restless, an adrenalin-junkie and often annoyingly arrogant , but those only served to thinly veil qualities that endeared him to those he allowed close to him: kindness, loyalty and the guarantee to get a good laugh, often at his own expense. It had taken them three years to admit their feelings for each other, although Chef Andy and their bro's knew they were in love LONG before they did. He was fiercely protective of her, having displayed his most aggressive behaviour in situations where her existence was threatened. He hated her participation in some of the fights with Limburger, his aggravation displayed in the rough manner with which they made love after these clashes. It was fiercer and faster than normal, as if he was trying to punish her in some way for putting herself in danger. It was also on these nights that she felt she would explode with passion. While all three bro's had strong, attractive appearances, it was Vinnie that caught her eye from the very first day. He was the shortest of the three, around 6'5, but in no way did he have to step back in the muscle department, clocking the scale at 250 pounds the last time she checked. His fur was a snowy white, and also of the shorter variety. Like his bro's, he also made a physical sacrifice to the cause of war, losing a large part of the left side of his face in a horrible Karbunkle experiment, an event he refused to discuss even with her. He covered the scars in a flex-plate mask even she had never seen him without. He wore black biker boots and blue jeans, but preferred only a set of bandoleers across his chest as a form of covering his torso. He had 3 studs in his left ear and fingerless gloves, and had a red bandanna tied around his neck. The one thing that attracted her most was his smell. It was a smell that made her think of oranges and limes, and after a year of being together it still made her heady when he pulled her close, like he did now, stepping forward to pin her to the wall.

"You know, that was the last tire, and I think I'm ready for my forgiveness now." he whispered running his tongue along the shape of her ear, letting his fingers drift down to toy with her belt.

She pushed with her palms against his chest.

"I'm all sweaty and sticky, Vin." she protested.

"You'll be sweatier and stickier when I'm done with you." his hands took hers and pinned them above her head.

"I haven't put the 'Closed' sign up, anyone could walk in and see us."

"And see me have sex with my smokin' hot wife? Nothing wrong with that last time I checked." he stroked down her backside, using his hands to part and lift her thighs and lock her legs around his waist, wrapping his tail around her waist to steady her. He bent his head down and brushed his lips against hers.

"Oh, having sex now are we?" she smiled into his lips. "No more love making?"

"Hmmmmmmm, lovemaking is for candles and planned dinner dates; sex is reserved for hot, steamy garage make-out sessions..." he licked her lips. She chuckled and parted them, tasting the root beer he had been sipping on earlier.

"My only problem with this little scene is that YOU seem to think you're in control. In _this_ garage, I'M the boss. And what _I_ say goes." She twisted her hands from his grip and instead pinned his behind back and leaned down to bite his neck, taking care to not pull on his fur. He groaned and pulled her tighter against him. He could easily break free from her grasp, but decided to play along, liking this side of her that only showed itself once in a while. She lowered her legs and backed him up against the heater fixed to the wall. She reached above his head to the shelf in front her, and pulled a couple of cable ties from an open packed close to her. She pushed him down by the shoulders and straddled his lap, sitting flush against him, allowing her breasts to lightly brush against his muzzle. In one swift move he pulled her tank top over her head and unclasped her bra, tossing it to one side. She claimed his hands back and tied it with the cable ties to the fixed heater, knowing it would never hold if he decided to pull on it, but also judging by his quickening breath and lusty eyes that he was playing along. She smiled, relishing in the fact that her usually boisterous and out-of-control husband was forcing himself into submission for the sake of making this last as long as possible.

* * *

Throttle** t**apped lightly on the back door of Chef Andy's diner and took a step back to wait. Andy was aware of their "alien" status, and was also their main supplier of hot dogs, hoagies and root beer. Throttle knew better than to make a front door entrance, most public buildings had a clear "no biker helmet" sign posted on its door and their unusual appearance (by human standards) didn't exactly allow him to venture into a public dining place without his helmet. The sign was clearly for security reasons, and Throttle did not expect Chef Andy to make an exception for him. Charley always made sure to contact Chef Andy before these trips, so he could personally meet Throttle at the back door and minimize any possible contact between the tan mouse and the diner's kitchen staff. Today was no different, and Chef Andy opened the back door with a huge grin, motioning for Throttle to come in.

"Throttle my boy! Always good to see you! How is that beautiful lady doing? Still married to Hurricane Vincent?"

Throttle smiled and nodded, Chef Andy never failed to ask that question.

"All the way, Chef. She ain't never been a girl to back off a challenge. Keeps my bro in his place, I'd say, if that's possible."

Andy nodded.

"Yes, I know what you mean. You want a sandwich? I have some leftover from the lunch rush. Chicken-mayo, ham-cheese and tomato and steak, mustard and pickles."

"Steak please." Throttle nodded and settled at the chair Andy placed outside.

He spotted a movement outside the open back door, and got up to get a better look. Several buggies were parked outside the front door of the diner. He didn't recall seeing them there five minutes ago and figured they must have arrived while he was chatting to Chef Andy. To the naked eye, it seemed like regular buggies that the usual beach bum would drive, but Throttle's trained eye had no problem spotting the grease stains on the seat covers and the grease trail leading from one of the buggies to the front door of the diner. He had seen enough of Limburger's goon buggies to know them when he sees them. _Greasepit. _The head honcho of Limburger's goons. He was massive, perpetually dressed in denim overalls and a silly red cap and constantly dripping with greasy oil. Unfortunately he was also incredibly stupid, and the mice fully intended on questioning Limburger on why he never replaced the oil-slug with a more competent goon manager – if Limburger was ever brought to the justice he so clearly deserved.

He creeped around the corner of the front wall, relieved that his bike was parked out of sight, and peered around the corner towards the glass doors leading into the diner. Greasepit and several of his goons were inside, laser guns pointed a terrified cashier and customers. He spotted Chef Andy walking into the front shop and putting his hands up as one of the goons grabbed him by the collar and screamed something at him. For a few moments Throttle considered taking on the lot by himself. He could easily beat them, these goons were not THAT hard to defeat. However, he did not want to wreck Chef Andy's diner, knowing the hell Andy had to go through to get this place to what it was today. It would be easier to lure them away to the other side of town, but he also knew that it would be harder to beat them down if they had the space of the deserted city streets to their disposal. It would also mean more mayhem and destruction, and as much as he liked giving as good as they gave, he did try to keep the possibility of putting civilians into danger to a minimum. He needed his bro's for this. He silently crept back to his bike, keeping a low profile.

"Vinnie, Modo!." he radioed via his helmet communicator, keeping an eye on the glass doors. "_Haul tail bro's, we got company at the diner...and it ain't friendly." _He drew a sharp breath when a goon kneed Chef Andy in the stomach, swiping away the bag of cash from the cash register Andy offered. Any thoughts of a robbery was instantly wiped from Throttle's mind. Greasepit and his cronies were clearly after something else. Or someone else...and Throttle had a nasty suspicion on who exactly that might be.

* * *

She bent down and kissed him, forcing his lips open with her tongue, while using her hands to unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down and tossing them on top of her discarded bra and tank top. She unclasped his bandoleers with a practiced move, and tossed them on top of the pile of clothes. She got up and walked a few paces back, leaving him exposed and clearly in a very elevated state of excitement. She shimmied out of her jeans, taking care to leave her underwear on.

"Take it off...your panties...take it off!" Vinnie was almost incoherent with lust, forcing himself not to struggle against the ties confining him to the radiator.

"Or what?" she smiled innocently, moving forward and straddling his lap again. "I don't think you're in any position to make demands." She lifted herself up and lightly brushed her breasts against his muzzle again, backing away when his tongue flicked out to try and catch a nipple. She slowly rolled her hips against his, making sure he felt EVERY SINGLE...

His helmet communicator beeped twice, Throttle's voice drifting over from across the room.

"_Modo, Vinnie_, _haul tail bro's, we got company at the diner...and it ain't friendly." _

Vinnie continued his attempts at catching a nipple in his mouth, seemingly oblivious to Throttle's distress call, and just as he managed to do so, she groaned.

"We'll have to take this up later." She slowed the grinding of the hips. "Duty calls."

He leaned his head back against the radiator and grunted in frustration.

"Passing on getting some action, in order to get some action." he sighed. "There has to be some kind of 'I don't always get action but when I do' joke in all of this." He pulled on the cable ties, easily breaking them to pieces and pulled on his pants and boots before tugging Charley close for a deep kiss.

"We'll continue this discussion on who's the boss later." he smirked, slammed his helmet on and raced the red bike out of the garage, leaving his semi-naked wife smiling at the myriads of possibilities locked into the night ahead of them.

* * *

Modo was finishing up the last of the ironing just as Throttle's mayday call came through. He folded the handkerchief neatly and placed it on top of the pressed pairs of jeans and socks. His grey furred mama had always been very particular about her only son and grandson having a proper handkerchiefs at their disposal, much to the chagrin of Rimfire, who was teased mercilessly in high school for this very same reason. He walked down to his bike, cocking his arm cannon for good measure and securing a laser blaster to the gun belt on his thigh. He didn't often see the need to carry extra heat, but this was Chef Andy's place, and he was not about to take any chances.

* * *

Charley pulled her jeans and tank top on, and used an elastic from her work table to pull her hair into a messy ponytail. Her little tousle with Vinnie did nothing to lesson the sweat that was now running down her back and between her breasts, and she was mentally calculating the months to winter. She cut the leftover cable ties from the radiator and tossed them in the bin. Vinnie loved to brag about conquests, ANY conquest, and she often had to stop him short from handing out unsolicited information on their married life. It would take Throttle half a second to figure out why there were cable ties secured to the radiator, and while he and Modo were way too decent to mention it, she did NOT like the fact that they would know anything about what happened behind closed married-life doors. Throttle and Modo were still her best friends, but they were also her brothers-in-law, which drew a certain line she was relieved that, unlike their unruly brother, they were too well-behaved to cross. Turning the sign over to "Closed", she pulled the roller doors down and walked over to the kitchen.

Charley was just about to pour herself a cold glass of water when a firm knock sounded at the front door. She frowned, no one ever used the front door. Customers for the garage usually came by the service bays to park their bikes, the bro's used the back door (and occasionally the wall NEXT to the back door.) Even the goons came crashing through that side of the building on the odd occasion they decided to make a house call. She contemplated ignoring the caller at the door, well aware that she was dripping with sweat, her hair was messy, and her skin flushed with a mixture of arousal and heat, but decided against it. It might be a new customer and she had nothing to lose by the possibility of gaining new business.

She opened the front door and and stepped back in surprise. In front of her was a female martian mouse, tan in colour, but slightly darker than Throttle. She was female, and her hair was cut into a punky style, with long side bangs and a ponytail that reached to her waist. She was dressed in a black, fur-hugging bodysuit with a jade-colored belt. Her most striking feature however was not her dark blue eyes, but the the flex-plate mask covering the majority of her face, leaving only her right eye and muzzle exposed. Charley knew who she was, long before the girl smirked and stuck her hand out for a vice grip introduction.

"Hi. I'm Harley. Charley I assume?"

Charley was well aware that she was appearing to be dumbstruck.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm Charley." she stammered. "How...how do you know?"

The mouse pushed past her into the front part of the house.

"Vinnie of course." she smiled confidently, glancing at her surroundings. She turned back to Charley and looked her straight in the eye.

"I can smell him on you."


	6. Chapter 6 - Secret's out

Chapter 6 – Secret's out

Chapter warning: minor cussing.

**A/n:** I've gotten some pm's asking where in the time line of the show the story takes place. This fic is not linked to any part of the time line of the 90's series. I took the canon characters, and some events from the series (past episodes, the war) and built a story of my own using that, so this entire series (all three parts) are free standing from the show, hence some details being different to allow for whats going to happen in the rest of the series, such as the amount of time Harley has been missing etc. I've already said that I refuse to acknowledge the 2006 series, but decided to use the 2006 Harley because she fits perfectly for what I have in mind for her.

This is a shout out to **miceaholic**, who has kindly offered to be my micencyclopedia and **spades24**, who is giving me great pointers on English grammar. Your help is very much appreciated! Now on to the story...

* * *

"Let me get this straight: You've known about Harley for three weeks now, driving up and down between here and the Chaos to get supplies to her. She convinced you to keep her presence quiet for some bullshit reason even I don't buy. Then she tricked you into giving her your truck, used your swipe card to enter the transport booth chamber, rigged the transporter to blow after she is done with it, and used it to get to earth."

Primer bit her lower lip and nodded.

"I have no words." Rimfire threw his hands up in the hair and stood up. He rubbed the bridge of his muzzle, trying to fight off the exhaustion that threatened his ability to think straight. It had been a very long night, and there didn't seem to be an end in sight. After discovering his sister to be the occupant of the mysterious campsite, things had only gotten weirder. He turned back to her.

"How could I not have noticed? You're my twin sister, for gods sake! What if something had happened to you? If Mace came after her and found you?" he was getting upset again.

"I was going to tell you Rim, honestly I was! I waited until you got back from patrol each night and were asleep before I took off. I left the truck at the medi-centre so you wouldn't hear it leaving. She asked me to keep it quiet, she just wanted to adjust to being free again. She wanted to make sure Mace hadn't followed her and that no one got hurt if he did." Primer looked at her hands. "I don't believe she means anyone harm and I think if we can get hold of her and you could just talk to her, all of this will make sense."

Stoker entered the room and sat down by the table.

"Techies say the transporter could take weeks to fix. No one is answering at the damn garage." He looked at his watch. "By now all shades of hell has probably broken loose there anyway."

Primer banged her fists on the table in frustration.

"I TOLD you, she doesn't mean anyone any harm, she said so herself! Many times! Do you honestly think I would have kept quiet if I thought she was dangerous?"

"And WE told YOU she has a file as thick as my arm with notes about the bro's, Stoker...even Charley's in there! Why would she have that?" Rimfire pointed at the thick folder lying in front of him on the table.

"I don't know! I didn't know she had it, I didn't even go inside the tent until tonight! Look, maybe she had it because...maybe she used the notes to familiarize herself with everyone again, updates on their lives or something. She did say that things have changed so much for her. I don't know what else to say!" Primer's voice broke, and she was close to tears now.

Stoker got up and knelt down beside her.

"Look Kiddo, none of us had seen Harley in 7 years. Hell, most of us thought she was dead! We have no idea what happened in time, what she went through, where she stayed. We don't even know whether she was in captivity the entire time. No doubt a lot has happened, SHE would have changed as well. You can't look at that folder and not ask the same questions we've been asking."

Primer was full out crying now and Stoker pulled a handkerchief from Rimfire's jacket hanging by the chair. He gave it to her before pressing on.

"A lot is at stake here, and a lot of people are involved with this. The notes on the pages in that folder are innocent enough, but it could also be a cover in anticipation of getting caught. It's not a good sign that she rigged the transporter after using it. The only way to go after her now is by regular space travel, and that's a four week trip to Earth. By then it might be too late."

Primer wiped her tears away and blew her nose .

"I feel so used. She was so convincing. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I just felt that she went through so much that the least I could do was respect her right to privacy until she was ready to come forward herself. She never spoke in detail about her time with the rats and I didn't want to pry. I thought she would tell me when she was good and ready."

Stoker nodded.

"Let's take it from the top okay, Kiddo? Try to think of any detail you may have left out. Rookie, you go try the garage again."

Primer nodded and sighed, cringing as the door slammed behind Rimfire.

"She first made contact three, maybe four weeks ago. Around the time Rimfire took his patrol test. Anyway, I had a call-out, Scabbard asked me to come and do a fill-up on their first aid kits. At first I thought it was weird because I filled those up not two weeks prior to that, but figured they must have had a bad week and needed more supplies, so I went." Primer blew her nose again. "I was going to stay over because it got really late and it's a two hour drive back, but in the end I decided against it and started heading back. There's a short-cut by the Fort Isle base that the supplier trucks use to get to Scabbard's and I took it. I use it all the time, never had any issues. It's much quieter and darker than the main road but it cuts out maybe 20 minutes of driving time. I was maybe a mile from turning back onto the main road when I saw this bike next to the road and drove up to it. It was lying on its side and I couldn't see the rider."

Stoker scribbled something on his notepad. "Any familiar markings on the bike? Martian? AI?"

"No, it wasn't familiar. And it didn't have any AI that I could see at least. It was just a bike. There were skid-marks in the dirt, like it spun out? I was worried about the rider, I thought he may have been injured, having been thrown off or something. That road doesn't get used often so if someone did crash there, they wouldn't be spotted until the next truck passes by, and that could be whenever. I parked the truck in front of the bike so that the headlights lit up the field beyond, I tried to spot the injured rider that way but I didn't see anything. I walked up to the bike to try and pull it upright. That's when I heard her voice."

"_I wouldn't do that." _

_Primer spun around at the sound of the female voice behind her. She could see the silhouette of the woman leaning against the driver's door of her truck, a motorcycle helmet swinging from her one hand. The truck's headlights shone straight into Primer's eyes, and she shielded them with her hands, trying to get a better look._

"_Who are you?" Primer could kick herself for not taking her blaster with her when she exited the truck._

_The mouse ignored the question, instead sauntering over and kneeling next to Primer by the bike. Her face was still shadowy, but Primer could make out dark tan fur and a roguish hairstyle. At a quick glance she looked like a Martian mouse, dressed in black jeans and a black biker jacket._

"_Smell that? It's fuel. One spark and the lot could blow sky high." the mouse turned to face Primer, allowing the light from the truck to spill over her, finally lighting up her face. Primer gasped in shock. It was Harley. Vinnie's girlfriend, her friend, kidnapped and betrayed by Mace 7 years ago. She was obviously older, and had a face mask not much different from Vinnie's - but it was undeniably her._

"Was she armed?" Stoker prodded.

"If she was I didn't see it."

"What happened after you realized it was her?"

"Naturally, I freaked out. It was crazy, I just...I couldn't believe my eyes. Those first few minutes...a total blur. She looked so _different._ Her hair was much longer than I remember. She was so...sinewy, like she had been working out, which was a crazy thought, because she just escaped from captivity, right? And she was so calm, you'd think she would freak out too, but she just stood there while I was squeezing the life out of her. I didn't even give the damn bike a second thought."

"_Are you okay?" Harley asked, one eyebrow slightly higher than the other._

_Primer hiccuped and let go of Harley, clamping her hand over her mouth and her eyes filling with tears again._

"_Oh Harley! This is...I don't...I have to radio this in, do you realize what this means?" She headed over to her truck but Harley grabbed her arm, holding her back._

"_No, you can't!" She saw the confused look on Primer's face. "I mean, not just yet." She swallowed and her voice cracked a little._

"_Look, I...I only just managed to escape those rats and I crashed this damn bike and hurt my arm and leg. Road burn." Only now did Primer see the shredded leg and sleeve of the biker outfit._

"_I need time to adjust, get my bearings. I don't want to face anyone just yet. I need some time before I do the big reveal."_

"_But Vinnie, he has to know! Harley, he spent YEARS looking for you! He was devastated!" Primer couldn't believe what Harley was saying._

"_I know. But if he could do without me for 7 years, then a little more time apart won't hurt, right? And I believe he's married now anyway."_

_Primer flushed. She completely forgot about Charley._

"_Yes, yes he is. But still...wait, how do you know about Charley?"_

_Harley shrugged._

"_Word got around to our compound." she took Primer's hand and looked at her pleadingly, eyes glistening with tears. "Look, I know this is a shock, but I need you to keep this quiet for me for now. I haven't been on Mars in years. I'm going to need someone to hook me up with supplies and just be a friend until I'm ready for the next step. Can you do that for me? Please? Be my friend? I know, it's a lot to ask." She looked down, shoulders slumped. "I thought I had Vinnie to come back to, but that obviously didn't work out, so much has changed...I...I...can't..." she choked up and looked away, not wanting Primer to see the tears that now flowed freely down her cheeks._

_Primer took a deep breath. "Yes, yes of course I can do that. I have so many questions. I just..."_

_Harley pulled her close for a hug and whispered in her ear._

"_I know, Honey, I know." She smiled through her tears and held Primer at arm's length. "Now go get your kit and patch me up. I can't wait to hear about everything you've gotten up to the past few years. You seemed to have turned out quite the medic!"_

_Primer sniffed and nodded._

"_Okay, let me get my kit."_

_She didn't see Harley's mocking smirk behind her back as she headed for her truck._


	7. Chapter 7 - Reunion

Chapter 7

A/N: This was an incredibly hard chapter to write, and even after four rewrite's I don't think I nailed it L It's difficult picturing Vinnie upset, since he is always such a wild card, but I do think that if it was me, I wouldn't want the world to see my reaction if I met up with a long lost lover. I'm also taking Harley's mask out, it just complicates things. Please R & R

Chapter warning: Minor language.

* * *

Charley was fidgeting. She felt extremely uncomfortable (in her own house dammit‼), and she didn't like it a single bit. Aside from the insulting way the Martian girl announced herself, she had was acting as if SHE owned this garage, and Charley couldn't shake the distinct feeling that she was silently being laughed at. Harley had a way of lifting her eyebrow that just reinforced that feeling that she was measured in a split second and found wanting.

"Can I get you something to drink?" She asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

Harley smiled and shook her head.

"No thanks."

She was standing by the photo wall, studying each picture intently, making weird 'hmmm' noises every now and then that Charley couldn't decide the meaning of.

"I'm going to try the bro's again." Charley got up and walked over to the CB radio, punching the code for Throttle's line. _Please let him answer. Please let him answer._

"Throttle, it's Charley, over." She radioed and waited.

There was a soft crackle of static and then Throttle's voice sounded, almost drowned out by the sound of gunfire and revving bikes.

"Charley-girl, what's up?"

She hesitated, not wanting to give out detailed information over the open CB line.

"I need you guys to get back to the garage as soon as possible. We have a visitor."

"Right now? We're in the middle of…" a huge blast sounded. "…..this wait? Are you in danger? Who is it?"

She could hear Vincent crowing his victory in the background and closed her eyes, wishing there was a way for her to spare him the pain he didn't know was about to hit him.

"Well no, no danger. Just get here when you're done, okay?" She clicked the radio off and turned back to Harley.

"They'll be here soon."

Harley nodded and continued her visual tour of Charley's wall.

"Don't you think its risky putting pictures of the boys up where people can see it?" she questioned.

Charley frowned. The BOYS? "No one ever comes here except the bro's. My customers have a waiting area inside the garage and never come to the house, this is our private residence."

"Our?" the eyebrow shot up again.

"Vinnie and mine. I started the garage some years before we met."

"You're a mechanic." Harley stated.

"I am. Best in Chi-town, if I say so myself." Charley couldn't resist the slight lilt of pride shading her voice.

"This is a nice picture." Harley pointed at a picture of Charley and Vinnie's on their terran wedding day. It was a very small affair with just the bro's, Stoker, Rim, Primer and Carbine attending, but it had been magical. Vinnie was the one that insisted she do the dress-and-heels, insisting that it was the one day she got to dress up, so she had. In the picture Vinnie was carrying her piggy-back style, looking over his shoulder to laugh at his new wife that was struggling to keep her balance on his back. "I must admit I'm surprised Vincent was the first to marry. He wasn't exactly the 'settling down' type, even when we were together."

Charley blinked in confusion.

Harley pointed at a photo of Vinnie with Primer and Carbine on the same day. Primer was laughing and Carbine looked like she was about to box Vincent's ears.

"He was very popular with the girls. And I mean VERY popular. Stoke used to say he had a girl in every port. I wouldn't have picked him to settle for Terran though. He used to say earth girls are a bit….meaty." She looked Charley up and down. "At least now I know what he meant."

Charley had to fight the urge to wipe the mocking smile off the Martian's smug face. She decided to keep things neutral. Fighting with Harley before Vincent even knew she was back could make things really awkward.

"You seem quite….chummy with them." Harley pushed.

Charley gritted her teeth, all thoughts of keeping the peace flying out of her head. She was just about to retort when the distant sound of bike engines sliced through the air. She breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the roller doors.

"That's the bro's."

The bikes pulled in, their riders clearly in an elated mood from the afternoon's activities. The three mice strolled in, laughing and quipping about their latest ass-whooping of Limburger's goons. Vincent grabbed his wife by the waist, pulled her close and spun her around, not noticing his bro's sudden silence and shocked faces.

"Missed me, sweetheart? Maybe we can pick up where…." Vincent noticed his bro's shocked faces and turned his head in the direction of their stares.

There she was; the lost mouse that haunted him for years, whose tragic fate made him question his ability to protect those he loved. The one girl that he allowed the tears to fall for, in the deepest and darkest hours of the night when no one could hear or see the heartache that was burning white scars in his soul.

He felt his breath hitch in his throat and the ice cold hand of shock clench around his heart so tightly he thought it was going to burst right out of his chest. He knew he was staring and his brain shouted at him to say something, to _DO SOMETHING,_ but he was frozen. His eyes burned and a thousand different thoughts seem to spill through his mind. He dropped his wife so suddenly she stumbled backwards.

_She's alive. She's alive. She's alive._ His mind was whirling.

He turned on his heel and walked out.

The sudden sound of the video-communicator in the next room broke the spell.

Modo leaped forward and crushed Harley in a bear hug, tears flowing unashamedly over his cheeks and muzzle. Harley may have been Vinnie's girlfriend, but she was their friend, and her kidnapping had rocked the Martian community to its core. Throttle was torn between following Vinnie or going to Harley but Charley held him back by the arm.

"Let me talk to him."

He nodded at her and turned to the Martian girl whose disappearance had nearly broken his youngest bro. She saw him and stepped out of Modo's embrace, holding out her arms. He looked at Charley and headed over to his long lost Martian friend.

* * *

Charley knew she had to put any negative feelings towards this girl to one side. After all, she hasn't been with her kind in years, and she deserved a break, right? Why did she feel so uneasy about all of this? She took a deep breath and made a ental note to get hold of Stoker as soon as possible, before walking to the side of the garage where Vinnie disappeared to. She didn't hear his bike leave, so he had to be there still.

Charley found Vinnie kneeling beside his bike, hands on his knees, breathing hard. He didn't look up when she touched his shoulder softly.

"I can't. She….oh gods she's alive. How….I dropped you." He whispered incoherently.

Charley didn't say anything.

"Is it really Harley? Is this Limburger's idea of a sick joke?" he suddenly became livid. "I will kill that son-of-a…." He jumped up.

Charley grabbed his arm to stop him, pulling him back down to his knees.

"It's her, babe. Limburger has nothing to do with this." It was difficult seeing her husband like this and her own tears were not far away. She bit back the urge to cry and cleared her throat. "Look, I have an idea. Stay here."

Charley opened the door and motioned for Harley to come closer, stepping aside for her to walk past her into the garage. Charley herself stepped out and closed the door behind her, before turning to Throttle and Modo.

"I think this is one reunion that doesn't need an audience."

* * *

Harley knelt down next to Vinnie. He looked older, he had more scars and was taller and more muscular than she remembered, but he was clearly the Vinnie that was left behind 7 years ago. She touched his arm, his skin cool and clammy through his fur.

"I'm so sorry, baby." She whispered and her voice broke. "I am so very, very sorry."

He looked up slowly from his hands resting on his knees, then suddenly reached out and pulled her into his arms. He pushed his muzzle into her neck, scrunching her hair with his hand that snaked behind her waist and up her back to push her head to his shoulder. He inhaled deeply and finally allowed the silent sobs to wrack through his body. She closed her arms around him and they cried together, soundlessly. Years of sorrow, uncertainty and guilt finally finding an outlet. She held him as if he was the one that was taken from her.

"We did look for you. For so long." He said in her neck.

"I know, babe, I know. There was nothing any of you could have done." She tilted his head up and looked him in the eyes. "You shouldn't be beating yourself up about this."

He wiped at his eyes with one hand.

"Gods, we looked everywhere. You were gone, and we thought you were dead, but you're not – we should have looked harder‼" his face crumpled.

"We were long gone by the time you realised what happened. And it wasn't all bad. The rats didn't hurt me. It's a long story." She stroked his face, and smiled though her tears.

"Harley, my marriage to Charley…I never…"

"Shhhhh." She soothed. "I expected you to move on Vinnie, I WANTED you to. "

"Sorry for acting like an asshole just now."

She smiled. "You were in shock, I expected worse."

She stood up and held out her hand to him. When he stood up and took it, she smiled softly and pulled him towards the door.

_"This is going to be a piece of cake." _she thought.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Game On.

A/N: I'm working developing the last few chapters, and its taking some serious thinking, so one more in-between-chapter before the crap hits the fan.

Chapter warning: sex scene.

* * *

"The ship is leaving tomorrow, 16h00 our time. It's time we see for ourselves what's going on. The tech went over that campsite with a fine tooth comb – NOTHING. The file she left behind? Spotless, not even a hint of hidden code scribbled in a margin. I'm telling you, Beautiful, something's up. A lotta loose ends here that needs tyin' up."

Stoker looked up from the screen in front of him and motioned at someone that was out of her line of sight to come closer.

Charley smiled when Rimfire's smiling face appeared on screen and he waved at her.

"Hey, Miss Charley‼ I just got back from prepping the ship, we're set to go." He winked at her. "Got space for two more guests at that the garage? I hear it's pretty crowded at the moment."

Charley laughed. Modo's nephew always found a way to make her laugh. She couldn't help noticing that he has really grown into his own skin since she last saw him at the wedding over a year ago. His teenage youthfulness was making way for the handsome features he shared with his uncle and the rest of the bro's.

"I'll always find a space for you fur brains!" She smiled at them fondly. "You two can sleep at the scoreboard. Modo can set up your usual hammock, Rim. Stoke, Vinnie's bed is still available ...unless you wanna shack up with Harley over here?" She grinned.

"Been there, almost done that, declined the t-shirt." he said with a mock pained expression on his face before turning serious.

"I think we should keep this trip under wraps for now. I don't want Harley bailin' when she finds out we're on our way."

Charley nodded in agreement. Harley had not exactly rushed at the chance to speak to anyone back on Mars since her return, something they all considered to be very strange. The bro's made it off as her not being ready to face the "real world" yet, and she hadn't given much information on what happened after she escaped. In fact, she didn't talk about her kidnapping, capture and escape at all. The bro's didn't want to pry, thinking she would talk when she was good and ready, but Charley wasn't so sure. She always seemed to be unavailable when the bro's make their weekly call to Mars. When Charley first managed to fix the vid-com, the bro's had agreed that as a precaution, they would call Mars, and not vice versa. It was one thing to send a signal out into the galaxy (UFO fanatics did this on a daily basis), but it was an entire kettle of fish receiving signals from an unknown source in a galaxy thought to be devoid of any life other than human. As such, Stoker could not make any "surprise" calls either.

"Have you spoken to Carbine yet?" Charley was curious to know what the fiery general's reaction to Harley's appearance was.

"Nope, thought we'd get a look of Harley first before spreading the news. No point in causing mass-hysteria without havin' all the info. Primer's been debriefed, but she doesn't know much anyway. We'll take this step-by-step, I don't want to get this wrong. The bro's don't know about her little Mars stopover right?"

Charley groaned and dropped her head in her hands.

"No, but I am SO dead when they learn about my involvement in this. I don't get how they can be so indifferent about her silence."

Stoker checked his Martian calendar. "What's the date over there?"

"29th of July."

He crossed an X on his calendar. "Okay so that means you can expect us around…..the 26th of August? Usual spot by the cove?"

"Is Rim flying this time? Need to know in case I have to scan the lake." Charley teased.

Rimfire rolled his eyes. They would probably never let him forget that he crashed their ship into a bunch of trees on their first visit to earth, leaving him suspended by his belt on a branch when he tried to exit the ship and lost his footing on the tree bark.

Charley blew him a kiss and switched the screen off.

She couldn't wait for Stoker and Rim to get here. It's only been a week since Harley got here, but she just couldn't bring herself to trust the Martian girl. She was nice enough, but there were several instances where she caught her staring just a little too long at her husband or laughing just a little too loud at his jokes. Vincent was funny, but he wasn't THAT funny. She also never let an opportunity go by to needle Charley, always being careful to keep her tone light and playful, and as such her clueless husband and his friends never picked up on the undercurrent of tension her jibes created. She bit back several times, but it was not in her nature to fake friendliness like Harley did. She also spent hours at a time in her room, doing gods knows what, and disappeared for hours on end, going gods knows where.

Charley plonked down onto the couch and switched the TV on. The bro's were off on patrol and she wasn't sure what Harley was up to, not that she really cared. Better enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted.

* * *

The scoreboard echoed from the sound of frantic moaning and pleading, seemingly edged on by the unmistakable sound of licking and sucking filling the room.

She felt like she was about to explode, and she pulled at the cuffs that kept her hands tied securely to the bedposts.

"Babe, please, I'm begging you‼" she gasped, her breathing increasing sharply as she started to build to orgasm. "This is torture‼"

Throttle lifted his face from between her legs, dropping small kisses from her hip to her navel before licking at the sweat that was trickling down between her breasts. He gave each nipple a lick and sucked hard, feeling with satisfaction how it hardened under his tongue as she arched her back, her movements restricted by her cuffed hands. He kissed a trail up the soft skin of her neck and finally closed his mouth over hers for a slow, deep kiss. Bracing himself with one arm, he slipped a hand down her body to hold down her hips and parted her legs with his, positioning himself in such a way that his rock hard member pressed against her wet core, making sure that the tip of his cock was pressed right by her wet entrance, pushing in just a fraction of an inch. She moaned and arched her hips up, but he held them down with his hand and slowly licked her bottom lip.

"You're going to have to tell me EXACTLY what you want, babe." He rocked his hips forward, adding another inch of penetration before pulling back again. He had been teasing her like this for hours, licking, sucking and kissing her, bringing her right up to the edge before letting go, not allowing her to cross over into bliss.

"I want you babe…inside me. Please…please." She tried lifting her hips again, but to no avail, his grip was like iron.

"Like this?" He slammed himself into her, silencing her loud moan with his mouth.

He pushed hard, not bothered with taking it slow, confident that she was wet enough to take what he was giving and more, and Charley arched her pelvis to the rhythm of his hips. Throttle increased the pace, the headboard of the bed banging against the wall in tune with their frantic thrusting. His back went taught as he towered over her and roared out his orgasm. Feeling his seed spill inside her, she could feel her own muscles tightening around him, ready to…..

"Charley-girl? Charley-girl, wake-up‼"

Charley's eyes flickered open, looking straight into the shiny green lenses of Throttle's field specs a few inches from her face.

"Mother of fff…." With flailing arms she tumbled off the couch, landing with a thud at the tan mouse's feet. Her eyes went wide. What THE HELL? With THROTTLE? Did she just almost come in her sleep?

Charley was mortified. Vinnie always teased her about smelling like "sexy time" and she would drop dead with humiliation if Throttle so much as caught a whiff (no pun intended) of what her betraying subconscious dredged up as dream material. She grew even redder, desperately trying to back away as she got up from the floor but walking straight into the coffee table behind her. She yelped and grabbed for the arm Throttle shot out to steady her, but failed in stopping her fall. They crashed down to the floor, knocking the coffee table out of the way. Throttle's substantial weight crushed every last bit of breath out of her.

It took her all of two seconds to realize that he was lying on top of her, one leg between hers, arm braced on his side, like he did in the dream.

"You okay, babe?" He looked down at her, unaware of the fact that if Vincent walked in now, they would have a hard time explaining why he was between her legs on the floor.

"Get off, you oaf‼" she gasped.

"Have you seen my specs?" he moved up and felt the carpet above her head.

"I can't exactly look for it while you have me pinned down." She remarked drily.

Neither of them heard the living room door open or saw the shadowy figure enter, only to hold back after spotting the two people on the floor.

"Okay just don't step on them okay? Wait, here they are‼" He said just as Charley shifted left to sit up, He reached out with his hand to take hold of his fallen specs but instead of feeling the hard frame of his specs, his brain registered several things all at once: the soft, unmistakable texture of a female breast, the fine contours of an instantly hard nipple grazing his palm…..and the fact that he was, unintentionally, feeling up his bro's wife.

It was Throttle's turn to be mortified.

"Whoa, Charley-girl‼" he snapped his hand back. "That was…..jeez I didn't mean to…" he said lamely.

"I think it's breast if you get up now." Charley dead-panned, looking him straight in the eye.

Throttle's apology died on his lips when he saw the twinkling in her eyes.

Charley couldn't contain her laughter any longer. This situation was too crazy not to laugh at. First the crazy dream, and now this and Throttle's look of utter mortification. She started giggling, which quickly turned into full out laughter. Throttle joined in, and both were soon rolling on the floor, quieting down and then starting over the minute they caught each other's eye again.

Neither saw the same figure that entered moments before exit the room again.

* * *

Harley headed over to the vid-com room, taking care to close the door behind her and locking it. She walked past the vid-com, over to the computer on the table and opened the software program that controlled the CCTV cameras placed all along strategic spots in the garage. Finding what she was looking for, she pressed the 'freeze frame' option a few times and copied the images over to her USB stick.

_Game on._


	9. Chapter 9 - Revelations

Chapter 9 – Revelations

Chapter warning: There is mention of stillbirth/miscarriage in this chapter.

* * *

Charley looked at the small stick in her hands and exhaled slowly.

_Negative._

She wrapped the home pregnancy test in a paper towel and got up to wash her hands. Better to dispose of it now while the guys and Harley are out. If Vincent discovered the stick he would just have a million questions and probably pout because she didn't tell him she suspected she was pregnant. Then Throttle and Modo would find out and next thing you know Stoker would be on the vid-com and all hell would break loose. They weren't actively trying for a baby and Stoker had raised some concerns previously about being biologically compatible – concerns they also had but were not yet ready to discuss.

She opened the door and slammed straight into Harley, who was coming up the stairs. The paper towel slipped out of her hands and, as luck would have it, she dropped the stick right at the Martian girl's feet. Harley didn't waste a second to pick it up to look closer.

"Oh, what is this?" She frowned, turning the stick upside down. "It has a sad face on it?" Her sensitive nose picked up a scent and she pulled a face. "Is there _pee_ on it?"

Charley blushed and made a grab for the stick.

"Can I have that back? It's kind of personal." Charley could kick herself for not checking before leaving the bathroom. She didn't trust this girl one single bit, and she definitely did not like her handling something as personal as her pregnancy test. The last thing she needed was for Harley to spill the beans to Vinnie.

"Sure, but what is it? Surely a sad face can't mean anything good? Charley honey, are you okay? " Harley handed the stick back and Charley hesitated. What if she was wrong? Harley sounded genuinely concerned. What if they were all wrong and she was passing off the rare commodity of girl talk around here, because of some ill conceived prejudiced notion? She might as well tell her what it is. Harley had recently discovered Google, and gods-knows what she might find if she started searching on it for clarity.

"Okay fine! It's...it's a pregnancy test." she said lamely.

Harley's eyes went wide.

"A what? Oh my soul, are you PREGNANT?" she bellowed.

Charley nearly fainted in fright.

"Shhhhhh! No I'm not, and I would appreciate it if you didn't tell Vinnie about this, okay? I don't want to give him false hope. He hasn't …..."

Harley looked over her shoulder before grabbing the stick back and pulling Charley into her room, locking the door behind her.

"Do you think it's wise for you to have kids? I mean, biologically our species don't seem very...compatible. You don't want to end up with some freak. Half mouse or half human? It might be ...what is the word you use? Retarded?"

Charley stared at her speechlessly. Then she saw red.

"Okay first of all, Vincent and I are a normal couple, with normal dreams – WHICH INCLUDES A FAMILY. Second of all, it is NOT for you to decide whether we are biologically compatible or not. Even if our kids were half human/half mouse, we would NEVER see them as _freaks._"

She turned on her heel and headed for the door before turning back.

"And retarded is not a word we use around here. Go Google it, you ignorant bitch!"

Harley wasn't listening, instead a plan had hit her like a lightening bolt. A plan that would top all the plans she had cooked up so far and was yet to implement. One that would not only destroy the Biker Mice once and for all, but also this moody Terran Vincent married. But if she wanted the plan to work, Charley would have to be her friend and judging by the mechanic's fiery look, that option was slowly fading away. She would need to go into victim-mode.

"Charley wait, I'm sorry!" She grabbed Charley by the arm, eyes brimming with tears. "Charley, I didn't mean to upset you. I...I didn't think before I opened my stupid mouth. I just heard pregnant and everything came rushing back. The Rats, my son..." She burst into tears and dropped onto the bed, her head in her hands.

Charley stopped short and snapped her mouth closed. _Oh great, who's the ignorant bitch now?_ She thought with a flush of guilt. She sat down next to Harley and patted her back awkwardly.

"You have a son? Where is he? With the Rats?" Charley was careful to ask questions. Harley had not spoken about her years with the Rats at all, choosing to avoid the subject entirely. This was sure a bombshell to drop.

Harley had to think fast. If the Internet was anything to go by, human females did not differ much from their Martian counterparts. Bonding between human female friends often happened over commiserating over a sad experience, more so when it involved their young. Human females tended to be emotional, drawn towards nurturing and protecting and wanting to relieve pain, whether emotional or physical. Also called the weaker sex.

She laid it on thick.

"I was raped by my captors. Over and over. It was horrible, I don't want to go into details." She peeked through her hands at Charley, seeing her emotions turn from shock to sympathy." She was clearly on the right track.

"Then one day, I didn't get my period. Same as with humans, ours stop when we are with child. I didn't realise it at first, but when I did I begged them to stop hurting me. Ronin, the leader, agreed. Said he would get a good price for the baby on the black market." Harley cried harder. "They did all sorts of medical tests on me, over the next few months. Then one day they came to fetch me, said the scans showed something was wrong and that they needed to take the baby out. I didn't want them to! I fought so hard, but they strapped me down and next thing I know I couldn't move. I could hear the heartbeat from the doppler machine they used. So I knew my baby was alive."

Charley was shocked speechless. Of all the things she thought Harley would tell them about her ordeal when the time was right, this was not what she expected. She felt like a right cow for her harsh words from earlier.

"They cut me open and took the baby out. It wasn't really a baby, it was just...it was unrecognizable. It didn't cry or make a sound or move, but I could see the heart beating. It was there! I begged them to give it to me so I could see for myself what I saw in the doctors' faces. But they wouldn't. Ronin walked in and instructed them to "dispose of it"and sew me up. Next thing I knew I woke up in my cell, healed up, as if I never carried an infant under my heart."

Charley was now crying as hard as Harley.

"Ronin...he said...that...our species weren't compatible. He said it was a mutant baby and died after they took it out. I knew he was lying because I SAW that heart beat, I saw it! I know it was a boy! If he was going to die then why not in my arms! Even if he was a mutant, I was still his mother!"

Charley pulled the girl tight to her chest.

"And that's why you said what you did earlier? Harley, I cannot apologise enough to you. You went through hell! Oh honey, I wish I knew what to say." She hugged Harley closer, stroking over the sobbing girl's hair.

Harley was thankful for being able to bury her face in Charley's arms, because it was getting hard holding up the crying charade. She could only fake so many tears before her head started hurting. From the looks of it, she succeeded in winning Charley over to her side...more than she could ever bargain for.

"It's okay. Sorry I freaked out on you. I...haven't really spoken about this...about the whole time I was gone - with anyone." She sniffed and smiled at the mechanic through her tears. "I must look a mess!"

Charley smiled. "Hey, you could NEVER look as bad as I do when I'm done with a truck in mid-summer heat, Vincent always threatens to hose me down!"

Harley laughed. "Let's talk about happier things. Like that stick. I like to learn about human stuff, and peeing on a stick to find out if you're pregnant seems pretty awesome. I'd love to know how it works."

Charley decided to let the subject of Harley's lost baby go, even if it meant focusing on her own personal life again.

"Well, the tests work by binding the hCG hormone, from either blood or urine, to an antibody and an indicator. The antibody will only bind to hCG. The usual indicator is a pigment molecule, present in a line across a home pregnancy urine test. Urine tests tend to be most sensitive using urine from early morning, which tends to be more concentrated (would have the highest levels of hCG). If you're pregnant, higher levels of hCG will indicate a positive result. A smiley face."

Harley blinked. "That's a lot of big words for a mechanic!" she said teasingly.

Charley chuckled, resolving not to get so quickly winded by Harley again.

"Yeah well, I tend to read up on stuff. I like to know how it works before I use it. Why don't you wash your face and I'll get rid of that stick, then we go down for a root beer and see what's on TV?"

Harley thought about this.

"Well, you seemed pretty secretive about it, so why don't you give the test to me and I'll get rid of it without the guys ever knowing? Sticking it in the trash is risky, considering how often Vinnie kicks the bins over with his moves. They never come in here, so it's safe for now. It's our secret okay? When the time is right and you get a smiley face, you get to tell Vincent. Deal?" She held out her little finger like she saw the girls do on television.

Charley laughed, she hadn't done pinky swear in years. Maybe she should let up on this girl? She hooked Harley's little finger with her own.

"Deal!"

* * *

A/n: Yip, Charley has internet and Google. Like I mentioned, this is not set on a particular timeline and my memories of a pre-internet era is pretty limited. I even had to Google how a pregnancy tests works.

A/n2: My computer is wonky and as such I now have to resort to writing on OpenOffice, which doesn't really help much in the grammar department. Please bear with me until I have a better option available.


End file.
